


A diferent kind of castle

by TopsyKretts



Category: The Alienist (TV), The Alienist - Caleb Carr
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 03:16:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14155467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TopsyKretts/pseuds/TopsyKretts
Summary: Laszlo witnesses something he wasn’t expecting and now suspects that there’s more than meets the eye in John.





	A diferent kind of castle

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys :D 
> 
> This is my first time paring this two so I hope I’ll do a good job but, well you’ll be the judges of that :) 
> 
> As you can probably tell by now, english is not my first language and I’ve been told I have some, ok maybe a lot, of errors :/ so I apologize in advance but really hope you can still enjoy the story despite that :)
> 
> Also, I don’t own the characters (as we all know) nor do I make any money from this fic. 
> 
> That being said, I truly hope you enjoy this and tell me what you think of it :)

It all started to fell apart after Mary's death. 

It was as if she had been Laszlo's cane, helping him stand and walk, keeping him from falling and necessary to an extent nobody, perhaps not even Laszlo himself, truly understood unless it was gone. And now she was. Gone. Just when he was starting to get a glimpse of what the future could be like with her by his side, not as a former patient, not as a loyal servant, but as a caring, loving companion for life.  
Laszlo had never allowed himself to think of her in that way. In fact, if he was honest, he never allowed himself to think in that way about anyone at all. But it had become clear, for some time now, that Mary had. That she had indeed thought of him as something more than her doctor, as something more that his employer. 

Laszlo had known this, but refused to address the subject. It would have been unprofessional of him, not to mention ethically wrong. Or so he used to think. Now, it seemed simple cowardice and foolishness. That he had wasted all that time, precious time they could have shared together, keeping his distance, keeping appearances. And it had been a mistake he could never correct.

Thoughts of what he should have done but didn't, of what it could have been but now never would, occupied his mind to the point of not letting him think in nothing else. Nothing, except for one thing. That he was now making the same mistake with John.

John. He was taking his friend, and always had, for granted. Kicking him like a stray dog, knowing for certain he would return. Insulting him to test his limits, to test his own theories. Pushing him away knowing he would stay by his side as if it was his only choice. But John had other choices. Sara, for instance, was one of them.  
Laszlo didn't know why was he suddenly comparing himself with her but, everything indicated that, were John's loyalties be put to test, he would probably chose to stay loyal to Sara. Not to him.

Over the years they had many fights, some more serious than others, but Laszlo had never really felt that their friendship had been jeopardized. Not until recently, when John confronted him over the matter of what happened between him and Sara.  
They fought when Laszlo wouldn't give in to the accusations and, for the first time, he had fear John wouldn't come back. And oh, yes, if he continued being honest, that had been what drove him to seek Mary's company.  
But she was gone. He repeated to himself because maybe that way would the concept finally sink into his brain. She was gone and she wouldn't come back. Now John was all he had. Assuming of course, he still wanted anything to do with him.

Laszlo had refused to see him after Mary's funeral. He had refused to see anybody but Stevie and Cyrus, and even said he wouldn't continue with the investigation.

He knew the others would try to, and maybe succeed in, carry on without him. Their instincts and morals would compel them to do so. To try with everything they had to give to put a stop to the murders. But what would John do?  
Laszlo knew him well enough to know that, by now, his friend would find his motivation at war with his loyalty towards him. That if, there was any part of him still loyal to him, of course. But assuming there was, John would still help if Miss Howard asked him to. He would have to. And if he knew Sara, which he did, she had already ask and lead the team to find the man they all concluded it was the killer. Beecham.

Laszlo knew he should be helping, and he would. He just needed to find John first.

He telephoned his house but Mrs Moore said his grandson hadn't return the night before and so going there to wait for him, was probably pointless. No. Miss Howard must have arranged another location for them to continue the investigation and they would probably be there but, where exactly was 'there'?  
Lazlo was starting to think of possible locations when, suddenly, the calendar on his desk caught his attention and realization hit him.

The feast of St. John the Baptist was close, which mean the killer was about to take another victim, which mean in turn, Lazlo knew for sure, that no matter where the investigation took them, John would make time to pay a visit to Joseph, the boy his friend had become so fond of for some reason, and warn him about the danger.  
Finding Joseph would assure him to cross paths with John sooner or later.

Lazlo went to the brothel in which he knew the boy worked, only to find that the police, incompetent as usual, had evicted the children. So he went to the streets, to where he once saw the boys seek refuge and meet with their regular clients on situation like this. And there he found him. Joseph. Now all he had to do, was wait. And so he did.

Time passed and the chill of the night made itself feel. The boys lit small fires inside some old metal bins, to keep themselves warm. Most were laughing and talking with each other but a few were looking for customers. One spotted him, standing with difficulty now after a good two hours of waiting, and approached him.

"See anything you like Sr?" The boy, no older than twelve, Laszlo thought, said to him. A well practiced line to attract the brainless man that frequented the brothel, no doubt.

"No." He answered politely but dryly, not wanting the boy to think he only need some convincing.

"Suit yourself." Came his reply and he went on his way.

Laszlo pulled his coat closer to his chest, the increasing coldness of the night despite being the summer upon them, making his bones ache. And he kept waiting.  
Luckily, only half an hour later, he spotted his target. John, as he predicted, was approaching the boys on the street, stopped to talk with one of the children, no doubt to ask about Joseph, and was pointed towards an alley.

Initially, Laszlo thought fit to give his friend some time before approach him, let him warn the boy about the danger so he may spread the voice. But something about the way John walked towards the alley got his attention, made him leave his recluded place across the street and follow him.  
The man was in a hurry, which was understandable given the situation they were in. But he also conducted himself with certain... excitement. Yes, Laszlo knew his friend well enough to read that, and any other emotion, just on his walk. He knew he would do a better reading if he could see his face, but right now, he prefered to remain hidden.

So when he crossed the street and followed John to the alley, he made sure to walk a good forty feets or so behind, and to use on his favor the poor lighting of the fires, as well as the few men coming and going with some of the boys, who provided a convenient distraction. Then, when his friend came to a stop in front of the one he was there to see, Laszlo sought to hide behind some old wooden columns of an abandoned construction, a few meters away from them but lose enough to see and to hear them.

Joseph said 'hi' to John and the conversation went fluid between them. They sat on a staircase leading down to a lower part of the alley, and Laszlo saw his friend smile like he hadn't seen him smile to him on a very long time.

Lately, John's smile had become colder, or at the very least, not entirely happy. But now, with this boy he barely knew, the gesture seem genuine, authentic. It made Laszlo feel something he couldn't quite put a name on and that was unsettling.

He kept observing them and heard John tell Joseph that he shouldn't spend the night on the streets. Then saw him took some money out of his pocket and handed it to the boy, saying it was for him to pay a room on an accomodation. And that was typical of John, nothing out of the ordinary there. But then he spoke again and an alarm started ringing in Laszlo's head. He said:

"Or you could come and stay in my house. My grandmother wouldn't mind. If she doesn't find out, of course."

Joseph laughed at the joke. But was the whole invitation another one of John's jokes? Or was the offer real.

"Your house?" The boy asked amused.

"Yes. I have plenty of rooms to spare, you can pick whichever you like. You can even have your own bathroom." He continued with a warm smile. "I think you would like it, it's-"

"Like a castle?" Joseph asked smiling back at John and Laszlo couldn't stop his brain from going through every little piece of information they had on the case.

"No. It's nothing like a castle.” The artist replied, his smile fading a little. “And is certainly not in the sky."

The boy seemed to regret his words instantly, and placing a hand on John's right knee, he said: "That's not what I meant, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I asked you to be careful and you’re following my advice."

"No but I'm not doubting of you!.” Joseph emphasized.

At hearing this, John smiled again, although he didn't seem quite as happy as before.

"And why not? What if I'm the killer?"

The boy laughed at the suggestion and said something about being easier for pigs to fly. Then he became serious once more and the hand he still had on John's knee, moved higher, his small, delicate fingers traveling up the older man’s thigh.

"I was just wondering..." Joseph said. "If your kindness is ever going to cost me something."

There was a moment of silence in which Laszlo thought he saw his friend hesitate. But the moment passed as quickly as it came and John took the boy's hand on his own and said:

"Never. Kindness, just like friendship, should be given for free. No things expected in return."

Joseph looked at him uncertainly, as if considering his words carefully.

"And what about love?" He finally asked looking down, perhaps ashamed of his profession. Perhaps fearing too what the older man's answer would be.

John seemed to read his emotions on his face and taking the boy's hand to his lips, kissed it softly and said:

"Love too should be given for free, even if is unrequired. That’s why it has to be selfless." And suddenly his smile become sad. "The offer stands Joseph. You don't have to keep being Bernadette, unless is really what you want. But even if it is, you don't have to keep living like this."

The tender words brought tears to Joseph's eyes but he wiped them quickly with the back of his free hand.

"See?" He said after a moment. "That's why I know you could never hurt a fly. You're too kind." 

"Well, thank you Joseph." Came John's reply as he let go of the small hand and stood up. "So, what's your answer?"

"I'll go with you. I just need to do something first."

"Very well. I'll come back for you in... let's say, about an hour? Would that be fine?" John asked and Laszlo couldn't remember the last time his friend had seem this happy. 

"Yes." Joseph said with a soft smile as he stood up as well. "I'll see you here in an hour."

And with that he walked out of the alley, forcing Laszlo to move further behind the wooden column to prevent being seen.  
He knew he shouldn't be there in the first place, what John did with his free time was hardly his concern but... it did concerned him nevertheless.  
Why did his friend's behaviour towards this boy bring so many questions to his mind? Why were so many scenarios involving John and the dead boys, displaying in his mind like vivid images? 

There was nothing criminal in the artist’s words or in his actions towards Joseph. But the feast of St. John the Baptist was close, and all logic told him there was more than meets the eyes in what he just saw. That there was an important clue right in front of him, that should not be left unfollowed.

With that in mind, just as John turned around to leave, Laszlo stepped out of the shadows.

**Author's Note:**

> So, what do you think of the start? :) I would love to hear your opinions of it and your theories as well! :D


End file.
